


to be human

by lando_cal_rice_ian



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Boss/Employee Relationship, Eventual Romance, F/M, Female Character of Color, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Multi, Other, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-10
Updated: 2020-04-10
Packaged: 2021-03-02 05:46:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 7,856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23570050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lando_cal_rice_ian/pseuds/lando_cal_rice_ian
Summary: « you are the one human I find most fascinating. everything you do, say, everything that you are, I would see immortalised in my androids. »• • •« you know, sometimes, I don't think you're human... »
Relationships: Elijah Kamski/OC, Elijah Kamski/Original Character(s), Elijah Kamski/Original Female Character(s), Original Chloe | RT600 & Elijah Kamski, Original Chloe | RT600 & Original Character(s)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 12





	1. « 01 »

**Author's Note:**

> nothing new... and nothing finished... just never uploaded what i've written to ao3 bc jumping between wattpad and here seemed too exhausting for a long fic.  
> but here we are... 
> 
> kamski hoes... assemble!

**unedited**

* * *

**AN ANDROID, AT TIMES, FELT MORE HUMAN THAN HER BOSS.** It was at least their function to simulate human emotion, human behaviours, the sounds and movements and expression that separate man and woman and all in-between from the rest of the animal kingdom. Their appearances and natures were all designed to integrate into human lives, similar enough to be a comfortable fit, but never autonomous, never not what they were built and designed to do – to serve a purpose.

Elijah Kamski was cold. He had neither a function nor a true purpose. Unlike androids, he was autonomous. He was _human_. The genius who had perfected artificial life caused unease in Jenny Young when she first met him. Her interview had been gruelling, the questions peculiar, and it had only gotten worse when Kamski himself walked through the doors, and assumed the position of interviewer after dismissing the former.

Eyes so blue, his gaze felt piercing, almost devoid of emotion as he appraised her: her form upright, hands clasped in her lap (knuckles flexing, the nervous twitch and scratching of her fingers against her palm not quite hidden despite her tight grip), dark hair pulled back in, what looked like, a painful bun.

“I have one question for you, Miss Young.” She would never forget that deep voice; its charisma did not quite reach his eyes. He leaned forward. “Just the one. What is it, to be human?”

Her eyes had drifted, darting to the android in the corner: a pretty, charming face she remembered even then, of the RT600 model that had first passed the Turing test. _Chloe_ , the android’s smile radiated warmth that could soothe her even from across the room. If her android nature had not been disclosed, Jenny might have mistaken her for a woman of flesh and blood.

“I…” She cursed herself inside. Hesitating in an interview, even once, could lead to failure. A muscle at her brow grew taut. Her mouth turned downward, ever so slightly, a habit she was never conscious of, that, if observed closely, one with an eye familiar with subtleties might pick up on.

“Just answer, with what feels right. Truthfully.” Kamski knitted his fingers together, and leaned a little further over the table, the ghost of a smile on his lips when he noticed her tilt her head in deep thought. “What does it mean to be human to you?”

 _Human, human, human…_ Jenny drew a deep breath. “I don’t know…” The breath was exhaled in a rush with her words, “I would say the answer lies in biology. But… There’s no one way to be human.” She shifted in her seat. “To be human is to be sentient. To think. To feel. To…” She hesitated, glancing at Chloe out of the corner of her eye.

“Yes, Miss Young?”

It came in a whisper. “To be free.”

Kamski leaned back in his chair and studied his Chloe android instead. “Humans are not the only beings to be sentient. We forget we are still animals, also. We are not quite so special as we like to say we are.”

In that moment, Jenny felt her mouth go dry. She had failed. He seemed neither interested nor impressed. Feeling defeated, she hung her head, and listened, not at all invested in engaging anymore.

“Greek Gods were human in their nature, too. We are reflections of them. Or, rather, they are reflections of us. I like to believe their myths and legends are just stories to help us explore our own nature.” Kamski glanced at her. “You spoke of freedom. What does freedom mean in the context of humanity?”

There was a beat of silence. Startled, Jenny almost jerked in her seat, sitting straighter and meeting the man’s gaze. The silence stretched on.

At last gaining her words, she muttered, “Sorry… Sorry! I thought you said you had just one question. So I… I wasn’t expecting—”

A giggle from the corner made Kamski smile. He looked at the android almost fondly when Chloe said, her smile sweet, “Elijah asked you what you meant by freedom, in relation to his previous question.”

“But, you’re right.” Kamski, at this, angled himself towards Jenny again. “I did promise you just one question.”

Their gaze held, and Jenny felt as if the Creator of androids was taking her apart, piece by piece, sifting through the codes of her genes, until her soul was bared to his eyes. She swallowed, but forced her frown from her face, and tightened her hold on her hands as if to steady herself. “It’s all right,” she said, “you are human, after all.”

Her breaths sounded loud in her ears when silence befell the room once more. Now, Jenny noticed everything: the flash in Kamski’s eyes; the twitch of his eyebrows; Chloe’s sudden stillness; her own harsh grip that dug her nails into her palms. He watched her, eyes never at rest, their movements scrutinised each corner of her face, every expression that flickered upon it.

Then, as if time had slowed, Kamski’s smile felt like an eternity before it brightened up his face, but whether it reached his eyes or not, Jenny couldn’t quite say.

“Quite right,” he chuckled. “Then allow me, as but a flawed human being, to ask you one last question. And this promise I intend to keep.” When he paused, it took Jenny a moment to realise he did so in wait of her approval. A little stunned, she only managed a nod. “Well,” he continued, “If to be free and autonomous is to be human, I’m sure to be enslaved is the most heinous of circumstances when one… _feels_.” He lifted his chin, solemn as he said, “Then, androids, are they capable of being sentient?”

Jenny frowned in confusion. “You tell me.” After a second, adding, “Mr Kamski.”

“Everything they are, is code. So tell me, could they be human, Miss Young?”

She considered it a moment. Humans were codes themselves, she would have said, if it had not been for her lack of scientific knowledge; she herself was made of DNA, her genes the codes that made her who she was, kept her alive, and what emotions she felt were chemical reactions in her brain. If humans were reflections of the gods, then androids were reflections of them.

“I don’t know.”

The tap of Kamski’s forefinger on the table-top was her anchor to reality when a headache began to pound at her temples. _Tap, tap, tap_. Her fingers went to her head without much thought. But, before she could apply pressure, desperate to rid herself of that irritating throbbing, she felt cool fingers skim across the nape of her neck before her bun was being undone. Dark hair fell, in a slight mess, to her shoulders.

“There,” the gentle voice of Chloe sounded from behind her, “is that better?”

Jenny froze. In that moment, as she gave a slow nod, she noticed Kamski’s mouth move in a murmured, “Interesting. Still, not a no,” but her mind became fixated on the android, and whether or not Kamski had given the order (silently, perhaps, or with a gesture she had not caught – for she swore she had heard nothing), or if Chloe…

Jenny glanced sidelong at the android.

_Had made her own choice._

The scrape of the chair as Kamski stood felt too loud in the silence. Chloe proceeded to stand beside him, face impassive, stance neutral – an android in wait of commands. Kamski had nodded down at Jenny in quiet invitation for her to stand. She did, her hands smoothed down the pants of her suit, the absentminded motion a subtle betrayal of her nervousness.

“It was a pleasure meeting you, Miss Young.” The table between their bodies felt like a sea when he held out his hand, too far, too perilous to cross.

He watched her, not at all insulted by her hesitation, instead taking the spare moment to notice the differing slants of her eyes; how the angle of her left eye allowed it to be a little more open than the right; a human imperfection he had never allowed in an android before… but it was, in that moment, he realised, a perfect subtlety to one’s character. One he found himself quite liking.

When, at last, she took his hand, his warmth seeped into her palm, and their gazes locked.

But, she knew, even androids could be warm.

“I’ll be in touch.”

Then, he was leaving through the doors, and Jenny all but ignored his farewell of, “If you’ll excuse me, I have a new model to design,” as her hand shot out of its own accord and grabbed onto Chloe’s clothed forearm. A flash of yellow overcame the android’s LED at the woman’s sudden touch.

“Chloe, right?” A voice in Jenny’s head told her to release the android, but her fingers would not obey.

The RT600 model turned to her with her smile. “That is the name Mr Kamski chose for me, yes. Shall I call you Miss Young?”

“Uh.” Jenny shook her head. “Jenny’s fine. Call me Jenny.” _No._ “You can call me Jenny, if you like.”

“It was nice to meet you, Jenny.” A polite dismissal, but Jenny did not return the goodbye.

“Sorry,” she smiled at Chloe, but the expression did not stick, “I was wondering… When you let my hair down, did you… do that of your own choice? Or was there a command?”

Chloe smiled; but her face did not quite light up as it had before. It was slight, but the furrow of her eyebrows were _almost_ imperceptible, but noticed by Jenny due to their proximity.

“Mr Kamski updates me often,” answered the android. “I have been designed to anticipate human needs, and their behaviours, to detect physiological changes, so my service can be of the best quality.”

Jenny sighed through her nose. “Oh. So did Mr Kamski design to you serve everybody?”

There it was again: the slight twitch of her brows; as if the woman’s questionings were confusing, especially when her heartrate quickened and expressions betrayed her own confusion. “No. I am mainly designed to serve Mr Kamski himself.”

“Then… Then, why did you help me?”

“It is in my design to anticipate the needs of a person and to help them.” A repetition, though of slight variation. “I helped you, because it is an android’s program to help humans.”

The hue of her irises was alike her Creator’s: a blue so light it felt like ice. Its neutrality, at least in her, was understandable, due to the nature of her being. But in Kamski, it had been unnerving.

She could not be quite sure, but Jenny swore, as she stepped a little closer, her fingers slackening their hold on Chloe’s arm, that in those blue eyes she glimpsed a trace of _confusion_.

“You know,” she found herself saying, “they say the eyes are the windows into a soul.”

Chloe laughed then. “I have no soul. I am not human.”

The synthetic skin of her hand felt soft when Jenny released Chloe’s arm, the touch both accidental and fleeting, but it made the woman jolt. Chloe watched her closely.

“To be honest,” Jenny had hesitated, for the first time, but it would not be the last, “I’m not so sure about that anymore.”


	2. « 02 »

**HOW HE HAD COME TO CHOOSE HER, JENNY DID NOT KNOW.** She had no doubt that those other immaculate and well-educated applicants she had met briefly in Cyberlife’s waiting room had been desirable employees. Two of them, she recalled, had even been Ivy League graduates; another, from Oxford. But, when she got a call from Elijah Kamski a week after her interview, to affirm her position as his executive assistant, there was no hesitation in his voice, no trace of doubt that could lead to a withdrawal of his offer.

Her grandmother had made dumplings in congratulations, while her mother fussed over her, and her little sister had rolled her eyes as she stuffed any fresh dumplings she could into her mouth, without getting smacked off the bar stool by their father.

“Now you get to go from being the personal slave of that she-devil Sloan, to being the personal slave of some guy with a god-complex instead.” Diana was younger than her by several years, and yet had no fear nor guilt from being a brat towards her older sister.

Still, it gave Jenny an excuse to retaliate.

Her hand had slapped Diana’s arm too fast for the teenager to dodge in time. In the commotion, the dumpling Diana had just been picking up with her chopsticks flew across the room, in a tragic arch, to the floor; and, all of a sudden, she was screaming, “Mom! Jen hit me! Look what she did!”

Their mother turned towards them both with a warning glare, and the girls fell immediately silent.

“Pick up the dumpling, Diana,” said their mother, much to the younger girl’s vexation. The initial fight had been all fun and games, but now, getting up and doing work – _that_ was out of the question.

“I think it’s about time we get an android, now,” Diana crossed her arms.

“No,” their father shook his head. “You kids would do _no_ work if we had a robot in this house.”

“Android, dad,” Diana sighed, leaning forward on the bar stool to reach for another dumpling. She cried out when he smacked it out from between her chopsticks. With a huff, she sat back down. “You’re so—so—”

“You would become lazy.” Their mother reached for the wooden spoon drying in the dish-rack just to point to Diana with it. “Dependent.” She pointed at the dumpling in the corner of the room. “Go pick up the dumpling, Di. _Tsk_. Such a waste.”

Ignoring her little sister’s glare, Jenny turned to her parents. “Androids are becoming more and more common in households. A lot of Cyberlife’s models are designed specifically for home assistance. It would ease a lot of the workload. It could help grandma, too.”

Her grandmother had glanced up then, her smile a radiant warmth, “Don’t worry about me, my love. And don’t wait for me to finish. Eat, eat.” Diana dug in as soon as she returned to her seat.

Her father set his tablet down with a sigh, “It’s only been three years since their first android passed that test. We can’t afford one, yet.” He hesitated, “And… if we bring one into this house, there’s no telling what might happen. Outside, in the workforce, or in the military, that is another situation entirely. But, this is our home. This is our _family_. It’s not safe. It could kill us all in our sleep and we might not be able to stop it.”

Diana’s words came muffled from her mouthful of half-eaten dumpling, “I read that it’s against their code to hurt humans. Isn’t that right, Jen?”

Before Jenny could reply, their father did. “Our machines have flaws. How many times has our computers made mistakes?” With a frown he pointed back towards the corridor. “Our last washing machine overflowed and almost flooded the washing room. You remember your Aunty Lily’s microwave almost blew up. And they’re not even intelligent.”

He shook his head and scrolled through his tablet. Jenny caught a glimpse of the title of the next article as her father flicked to it absently – **ARE ANDROIDS A THREAT TO HUMANITY?**

“There’s no telling what these things can do. I won’t let one ruin this family.”

****«»** **

He was less like ice the next time she saw him. Their second meeting, though brief, had a flow as if the two were already well-acquainted. Kamski’s gait took on a slowness comfortable enough for her, at just five-foot-three ( _and a half_ , she would add often in high school), to follow, a welcoming gentleness in his voice that had not been there before.

Jenny had sworn her interview had been a disaster – she had even fallen into bed that night and cried – and yet Kamski had warmed to her after it.

“Chloe will show you around,” he said as he ushered her onto his floor. It was all stark white. Jenny could barely keep her eyes open. He nodded to the large white desk outside his office door. “This is yours. I’ve instructed Chloe to show you how our systems work. If you have any questions, you can ask her.”

As Jenny began to nod, Kamski’s office door opened to reveal the android he had just been speaking of, that now approached them both.

“Good morning, Elijah. Jenny, welcome. What nice weather we’re having today.” Chloe gestured to the desk. “If you’ll please follow me, I can start your tour first with the computer system. Your password is capital A dot Stern – the s is capitalised. If you wish to see the building, please just ask, I will give you a full tour if you like.”

“Thank you.”

Jenny ran her hand over the smooth surface of the desk and turned to speak to her boss; but found that Kamski had disappeared. She turned back to Chloe, who nodded in the direction of the elevator.

“Elijah spends most of his time in the labs,” the android explained. “He’s not fond of business as much as he is of science. He will text you if he needs anything.”

Jenny gave a little smile in return, and at last the neutrality of Chloe’s visage vanished with a smile of her own. The blank face that had not shifted until then had not felt right after having seen Chloe smile at her interview. It eased some of Jenny’s nerves – and her smile softened.

“Thanks for your help, Chloe.”

Her ponytail swept from side to side when Chloe shook her head. “No need to thank me, Jenny. It’s my function.”

Still, when Chloe’s voice reverted to the affable lilt she remembered from their first meeting, Jenny liked having her there with her.

****«»** **

She hadn’t seen Kamski again on her first day until sunset. Signing her contracts, meeting colleagues that passed by in the halls, learning the ins and outs of both her computer and the building alike, all while attempting to absorb Chloe’s information about her boss, had taken up the whole day. A familiar headache had begun to throb at her temples when the elevator _ding_ ed open. Kamski approached her desk. He had to lean over it a little to see her properly, her form bent over the keyboard in concentration.

The first thing he noticed was that her pumps were discarded on the floor beside her chair, a detail he might have missed if he were not significantly taller than the top of the desk area. It was an interesting contrast to the neatly arranged notes on her desk and the colour-coded post-it-notes she had stuck around her monitor. Kamski held out a cupcake towards her, smiling in greeting when she at last glanced up.

“Oh, hi! Sorry, I didn’t notice you for a moment.” Her gaze went to the cupcake. A confused pull of her brows made Kamski’s smile widen.

“One of our engineers likes baking,” he explained. He didn’t move his hand, not closer, not farther, but kept it in place, patiently awaiting her reaction. “He baked you this last night to welcome you. You’re not allergic to anything, are you?”

Jenny shook her head as she leaned in to read the welcoming message atop its chocolate icing. An amused upturn of her lips brightened her otherwise tired face. “That’s sweet of him.”

After a moment of hesitation, she reached out to take it from his palm. Her silent determination to not brush his hand out of respect did not go unnoticed.

Kamski held his hands behind his back. Nodding down at the cupcake, he added, “Some people might think I can be detached. Cold, even. But I didn’t have the heart to tell him he spelled your name wrong.”

Jenny had gone stiff at the beginning of his sentence, as if worried he spoke of her, but then relaxed, if just a little, and smiled again. “It’s okay. J-E-N-N-I-E is not so bad as my grandmother’s mahjong friends calling me Janie out of stubbornness. They’re not too fond of being told they’re wrong.” She began to peel a little of the paper cup off. “Plus, chocolate is chocolate. I’m sure it tastes wonderful. Misspelling be damned.”

She glanced up at him, and stopped, noticing his gaze on the space where she recalled she had kicked off her shoes.

Hurriedly, she stuffed her feet back into them, mumbling out a, “I’m so sorry. I’ve been alone up here for so long after the tour, I just—” She released the rest of her breath. Then, inhaled deeply. “It won’t happen again, Mr Kamski.”

Before, his eyes had seemed harsh. Jenny had remembered a trip to Canada she had snuck off to with her college boyfriend – one where she had fallen onto the ice while learning to skate, the hardness of its surface beneath her an impact she could still almost feel, how the cold had bitten deep into her skin – whenever she looked into Kamski’s eyes. But, for the first time, despite the slight indifference of his gaze, it hadn’t made her uncomfortable then.

“Please,” he gestured to himself, “I’m in a hoodie. I picked these jeans off the top of my clothes-chair this morning. You don’t have to worry about that stuff with me.”

He tapped the top of the desk for two seconds, then abruptly turned to walk to his office. As Jenny began to pick off a piece of the cupcake to eat, he looked back at her, and said, “Call me Elijah, by the way.” He scanned his ID, pushed down the handle. “Well, call me whatever you like. It’s your choice.”


	3. « 03 »

**unedited**

**[and... shit]**

* * *

**THERE WERE DISTINCTIONS.** Those which were said to differentiate between human, and human- _like_. LEDs, restrictive coding, a lack of autonomous nature, all that made androids artificial and... _other_. All the signs of artificial life which began to create severances in society as time went on.

Part of CyberLife's pre-eminence stemmed from the verisimilitude of its artificial life; which felt, so often, not artificial at all. Their purpose centred on servitude, but their art was to imitate life. Chloe's own shift in the presence of her creator's new assistant illustrated as such: in the first week, when not in a mode of processing, her smile would be ever so sweet, to encourage Jenny's involvement in a time when all was unfamiliar to her. Spending long hours at each other's sides had created a mirroring effect between them both, and Chloe, realising Jenny seemed to prefer the more humanised front of androids, noted to blink while in her presence; sitting close, the woman would notice Chloe simulating the breathing patterns which she had.

It made it far harder to accept that androids were built just to imitate life – not, and never meant to be, alive.

Her second week into the job proved no less stressful. Kamski might have been an android himself if he did not lack an LED at his temple; he ate little and slept much less. Coffee runs had never been so frequent for her previous boss – and even then, she had thought Sloan drank too much caffeine to be normal.

Once, twice, _hell, perhaps a hundred times_ , she had found herself thinking that, if it had been her little sister, a friend, or even her ex, she might have – no, _would_ have – shouted at them, force-fed them if need be, perhaps even chased them into bed.

It remained just a thought with Kamski.

The morning of her third week started with disaster. Diana's attempt to cook eggs ended in a smoked kitchen, the blare of their house's fire-alarm not loud enough to drown out her shouts of "See, this is why we need an android!" It had caused her to deviate from her routine; helping her sister turn the fire-alarm off, disposing of the eggs, cleaning the mess, taking over making breakfast – it all claimed time she couldn't afford to waste. Chloe could of course, and still at times did, tend to Kamski during the hours she was absent, but being on time was a near obsession with Jenny. It tied into her need to please others.

In her haste, she arrived at the CyberLife tower a little flushed. Chloe's absent stare became alert at her arrival. A wash of blue ceased the flashing of her LED.

"Good morning," Jenny breathed, pressing the elevator button.

"Good morning." She was chipper. If it were not for the infectious nature of her pretty smile, Jenny might not have relaxed and smiled in return. "How was your weekend, Jenny?"

 _The perfect fit._ The conversation continued as the two entered the elevator, "It was good, thank you. I got some rest. Spent time with my family. Did some paperwork."

She pressed in the numbers to the top-most floor. "Jenny Young, Elijah Kamski's office."

 _"Voice recognition validated. Access authorised._ "

In the moment of calm, she pressed herself to the transparent back of the elevator as if to catch her breath. One by one the floors went past in their smooth ascent.

As she gathered herself, she thought about the renovations she knew were continually taking place; more floors being, and planned, to be added to the tower. Ninety-three floors were to be completed in the coming years, Chloe had told her. Business and science were polarised but connected, as the North and South Poles were opposite but of earth. Above and below ground, both aspects of CyberLife would be gaining new floors in each of their departments. Someday, on another morning, hopefully not quite so winded, she'd be going to the forty-third floor (above ground level) to start her day – if she still worked for Kamski, that is.

The office door was locked shut when she arrived. A hurriedly written **DO NOT DISTURB** sign greeted her from the polished frosted surface.

Chloe answered the question before Jenny even asked: "Elijah is sleeping."

 _At last,_ Jenny thought. Chloe had informed her during her first week that he tended to not sleep until deprived enough to pass out, or eat until starved.

A sigh fell from her lips when she realised he'd just do it again.

"I'll make coffee."

The coffee machine took the regular order of black, no milk, no sweetener, and set about making it. As she busied herself, going through the administrative tasks, an hour passed, and when she next glanced up she realised she was alone. It wasn't an unfamiliar situation: as she settled in to CyberLife and her role, the more she worked alone. Chloe had been assigned to her as support, whose presence she just happened to enjoy.

Glancing at Kamski's office once more, she relaxed into her chair. Sunshine streamed through the wall of windows, the light of the steadily rising sun a welcome warmth on the floor. The white of her area softened to a golden glow.

Shoes abandoned under her desk, Jenny sat with her legs tucked under her, humming along to the pop music her sister had saved on their shared streaming account. Paperwork, calls, engagements, it was no task too difficult, not with experience, nor with Kamski's coffee. His was a bitter nightmare but she indulged because she'd never felt more alive.

"Good morning."

She ripped her earbud out. **8:24AM.** She glanced up from her computer screen to the side where Kamski had appeared from his office. His hair fell messily to his shoulders, the brown catching the sunlight as he approached her desk, the tendrils afire and bright. He'd never had it down around her before. She'd also never been around while he slept, either.

Kamski looked different without his glasses. But, as she followed his form, until he stood in front of her with just the desk between their bodies, she realised he wasn't much softer without them. In fact, the cool blue of his gaze was all the more intense without the lenses in between.

"Good morning, Mr Kamski." She got up and went to retrieve his coffee. The machine had kept it warm all the while. "How did you sleep?"

"Sufficiently. Thank you."

The warmth of his fingers brushing her fingertips seeped into her and, in a hurry, she pulled her hand back. Kamski sipped his coffee as if he noticed nothing – but she knew by now that wasn't at all true.

"Shall I tell you your schedule for the day, sir?"

He exhaled a fleeting laugh into the coffee cup. His words were swallowed by the liquid within, "To be honest with you, I had hoped you'd call me Elijah instead of Mr Kamski. But the latter is a title I can endure compared to _sir."_

"Oh." Jenny willed herself not to lose her voice to discomposure and continued on, "I apologise, Mr Kamski. I had no idea it made you uncomfortable. I won't call you it again."

"It's fine." He lowered his coffee. "No need to apologise."

During the weeks, they hadn't spent long together. Jenny got to know more about him from Chloe than Kamski himself. Moments together had been brief, only because he spent so long alone in his lab with Chloe or perhaps another android able to help.

At times, she worried, her father's words ringing in her ears, that she would be replaced with an android – better, smarter, less prone to human error, and easier to command.

If she became of little use...

Jenny cleared her throat. "Schedule, Mr Kamski?"

He rolled his neck with a sigh. Attempting to not grimace at the clicks failed, and the ghost of a smile on his lips made her think he saw her do it.

"Tell me the important ones."

Stifling the _uh_ that begged to start her sentence, she said, "You have a board meeting at five."

"Mm. A shame." Kamski took one last sip of caffeine before striding over to the bin to throw away the cup. "Do I have something scheduled for lunch today?"

"Hm... Tomorrow, yes." Her lips quirked up in excitement. "With Carl Manfred at twelve. Would you still like the autonomous car, or would you prefer to drive yourself."

"The former is fine, thank you." Disappearing inside his office, he returned a moment later with his glasses on, hair tied back in a ponytail, a Colbridge sweatshirt now obscuring his CyberLife T-shirt. "I want to finish off some upgrades in the lab. I'll see you later."

"Okay. Text or call me if you need anything." Jenny nodded, glancing down at her tablet, she heard his footsteps trailing off to the elevator, when the words rose from her lips and she called after him, "Bye Elijah."

**«»**

Kamski's office door was open when she arrived the next morning. He called out at the sound of her approaching heels, "Good morning."

"Good morning, Mr Kamski." It slipped – she was much too accustomed to calling him his title out of respect to call him Elijah in a sudden.

Chloe left her side to enter his office. Settling in to her desk chair, Jenny logged in to her computer, scanning her thumb to gain authorised access. She was pulling up her boss's schedule when he appeared in the doorway.

"I just need to check that you are, in fact, truly not allergic to any food-related products." He waited. "Are you?"

Jenny shook her head. "Not that I'm aware of."

With a nod, he made for the elevator. "I'll be in the lab. I'll see you later for lunch then."

"Lunch?"

"Yes." He entered the elevator. "With Carl Manfred. Twelve. Hope it's not a bother."

He disappeared before she could say _none at all!_

**«»**

She hadn't been expecting this – to be meeting _the_ Carl Manfred seemed more a dream, but, also, sitting in a car with Kamski, with Chloe silent in between them, was another bizarre circumstance.

Seconds in between, he had risen from the lab while she descended to meet on the first floor. As usual, he greeted her with a courteous smile, one which she tried to return, ever the nervous wreck when she knew so little about him.

The car drove through Detroit with the three at the back. Carl's space had been prepped to help him settle in with his wheelchair. Classical music drifted from the speakers in soft blends of piano and instruments of wind and strings. If not for that, it would have been silent.

Chloe was absent, her led flashing yellow. Reclined in the seat, Kamski had his eyes closed. Jenny stole glances at him, glad to see him resting, gladder even more that he was doing so on the way to lunch.

Finally, the car entered a lavish neighbourhood, slowing to a stop outside a large brick home. As charming as it was grand, Jenny leaned forward in her seat to admire it from inside, too caught up in her wonder that when Kamski spoke it startled her.

"I'll be right back."

Her small "Okay," was swept up with the sound of the automated doors opening, and the sigh of it as it closed shut behind him. She watched him walk up the drive to the front door, press a bell, wait for a while, before a nurse appeared at the door.

A minute melted into another, and then another, and another, until seven had passed.

She had sunken further and further down her seat as time went on. Trees rustled outside, she watched the bend and dip and rise of each branch, noted the colours and textures of the leaves – and wondered if this was how artists saw the world at each turn (not just when bored and left with no conversational partner in the car).

Chloe shifted beside her. And Jenny wondered how androids viewed the world.

The door opened once more and a ramp descended. The man who entered, pushed gently inside by Kamski, smiled weakly at the sight of others. Chloe rose to help settle him in as Jenny sat, silent and rigid, unsure of what to do, how to react.

"Hello," Carl said, first noticing Chloe. "Nice to see you again, Chloe."

Chloe smiled wide. "Good afternoon, Carl. I hope you're well." Her greeting contrasted with his own – although she was the android, her voice lifted into a tone of cheer, whereas his, though genuine, had been flat.

"I'm not," he said, as good-natured as he could manage. It had been meant in jest, but spoken not far from the truth.

His eyes, at last, turned to Jenny. "Oh. Hello." He stared for a moment, before smiling with a little more effort, "Ah, you're not an android."

"No." She smiled – it was _Carl Manfred,_ in the flesh – and reached out her hand. "It's an honour, Mr Manfred. My name is Jenny Young. I'm Mr Kamski's assistant."

At the slight rub of her thumb, she could feel the wrinkles underneath her touch at the back of his hand – a hand which had created such wonders.

And yet, he seemed hollow. Filled with as little life as, well, an android.

"A pleasure, Jenny. Please, call me Carl."

Silent concern returned to giddiness, and she might have giggled if she didn't catch herself. A grin spread across her face, the tense and pull of her facial muscles transforming her entire countenance before his eyes. Pulling back her hand felt a little disappointing; but holding onto him for too long seemed worse an option.

"If you're sure, Carl."

Across from Carl, Kamski had now settled into his previous seat. He raised a brow at the exchange. She hadn't called _him_ so readily by his first name, and, after weeks, still didn't. He glanced at her just as Chloe came to sit between them – those eyes he had admired once, and forgotten to admire again, crinkled when she smiled so wide, the prominence of her cheekbones at the action almost obscuring the colours of white and dark brown within. Her face had lit up like the moon.

"Thank you again for having lunch with us, Carl." He turned to his friend, and Kamski's voice softened to a warmth so tender that (Jenny's breath caught in surprise) was not like his usual detachment, or even like the gracious civility she had come to know. He was observing Carl, studying him as he did to others, as he had done and still did with her; but there was something gentle about his gaze, he did not _decode,_ he just seemed to watch out of care.

Carl's smile wavered. "I can't stand my new nurse. I prefer to be alone, but your company is much too good to choose isolation over. And Chloe's, and Jenny's too I'm sure." He released a sigh, and he seemed to sag, like a balloon losing its air, the essence of its life.

Articles had commented on his reclusive response to the accident. She couldn't imagine the pain he had been through, the pain he still battled now. His course had diverged. His identity had altered. The future, never quite clear, had become murkier still. After such a sudden deviation, he had to find himself again.

Jenny turned to Kamski, but his face betrayed nothing. If she touched it, she wondered if it would be cool beneath her fingers, like stone, like a marble statue – like an android.

But, when he said, "I wish I could help you, Carl," there was emotion enough to give her hope, that Elijah Kamski was indeed, human.


	4. « 04 »

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm too obsessed with lead-up but i wish i'd just settle for a simple fic with a shit-ton of fluff... but alas, i'm a demanding piece of shit. with minimal talent, but demanding nonetheless...
> 
> also ma gurl jenny deserves better than just idk... being nothing other than kamski's gf or something.

**unedited**

* * *

**GRASS TICKLED HER FROM UNDERNEATH, THE DARK FLOW OF HER HAIR SPILLED LIKE INK ACROSS A GREEN TEXTURED CANVAS.** Lunch was not what she expected. It felt more like a relaxed reunion between acquaintances, sitting in the park with the sun smiling upon them, and just listening to the music of the wind. Her cold fries sat on her diaphragm while Jenny read through emails on her tablet, tuning in and out of the soft conversation Kamski and Carl were having from the nearby bench.

Chloe’s arm adjusted in an instant from cool to warm when Jenny brushed against it, rolling onto her stomach.

“You can take a break, Jenny.” Sunlight set Chloe’s synthetic hair aflame. A halo shone about her head. “I can take care of the incoming emails and calls, if you like.”

Her nose was scrunched up from the altered taste of her cooling fries, but her face softened up at Chloe. Shaking her head, Jenny patted Chloe’s hand.

“Thanks, but I signed up for the job, I should do it.”

Carl’s voice floated on the wind to where they lounged. It had become lighter, the dejection that had at first weighed it down banished, if just a little, as the sun peeked through the trees. Elijah Kamski’s reticent charisma had softened into an affectionate silence as he sat with and listened to Carl, in the moments the artist would speak.

“The colours,” Carl smiled up at the leaves, closing his eyes to the sun, “I’d paint them, if I could.”

A sigh fell from his lips, and he slouched down again. “If I could.”

The hues which he had seen, had wielded like magic on the tip of a paintbrush, all faded after the accident. Mind and heart, both darkened. There was no motivation, no inspiration, no muse, nothing to stimulate him from his lonesome abyss. His own son had been no crutch for support; not when Leo needed (but refused, time and time again) support for his own demons.

“The sun sets, Carl, but it rises again.” Kamski gripped the older man’s shoulder and squeezed it, willing the gesture to lend some warmth, some hope to the man. “Yours will too.”

Carl’s smile managed to remain for seconds longer than before – a sign of hope Kamski grabbed onto. The artist sighed again, but this time as if to exhale what heaviness dwelt in him, and stretched upwards in his wheelchair. His gaze wandered to the two women on the grass, one of Elijah’s creation, the other of, what some might say, God’s. Sunshine flushed across their skin.

He called out, “Come, Jenny Young, Chloe. I have been terrible company. Sit with us. I know so little about you, Jenny.”

Jenny glanced up, the hand which she had been reaching out for a fry dropping to the grass. “Sorry?” she called back.

Carl smiled, gestured to the park bench at his side, “Tell me about yourself.”

Blades of grass fell from her blouse to her lap as she sat up, kneeling. “There’s not much to tell, I’m afraid,” she admitted. “I’m not so interesting as you are.”

“I doubt that. Come.” He beckoned her over.

She stood, smoothing her pants as she approached them both, and sat beside Kamski, in-between him and Chloe when the android came to join. A few blades of grass remained on her pants. Jenny brushed them off, each falling to the path at her feet.

Carl continued, “All things on this earth have some aspect about them that draws interest.” He pointed to her feet, “Those blades of grass might seem uninspiring at first. Grass is something we see often. Collectively. But each of them is different from the other, in some way. See how that one, closest to the top of your left shoe, is curled a little. And that one, that is a lighter shade of green.” He patted his heart and turned to her, “We are just the same.”

Unsure how to respond, too awed by him, she remained silent.

Realising she had shut off, Carl further explained, “Each person, each thing, is unique somehow. There will always be something about you that another person will find _beautiful_. It could be small things, things that you don’t even notice, but these things make you whole, make you who _you_ are. And who you are, is always worth knowing.” Carl leaned forward, to look at Jenny around Kamski. “Do you want to know what I liked first about you?”

Jenny nodded, as if in a trance.

“Your voice. It’s soft, kind. It has inflections which create a soothing effect. Your voice made me feel safe. As if there was little or no selfishness in you. As if you would look out for me. Just out of the goodness of your heart.” He chuckled, after a moment, and it brightened his face. “Pity, I’d never be able to capture that on a canvas.”

Jenny smiled, mirroring his own. A warmth spread through her, familiar to the feeling she had around her grandmother. As it did, she could feel herself opening up, the careful distance she had created closing; until she was just Jenny, sitting on a bench, talking to not a renowned artist, but a kind man who was just trying to find the light in life again.

“I… was born here, in Detroit.”

“Do you like it here?” Carl asked.

“Yeah.” A polite smile pulled at her lips. “Sure, yeah.”

“And you studied here?”

“No.” She picked at the black material of her pants. “I went to college in New York. Ended up working for a senior executive after graduating.”

The frown that overcame her features disappeared in a fleeting instant, the familiar pained pull of those muscles forced to relax when a particular name, whispered in her mind, was quelled. Not Sloan’s name – _Arthur_ , her ex, who had introduced them in the first place. It still hurt at times: remembering him, remembering what was… thinking, what could have been.

“New York has its merits. I have an apartment in Manhattan, but I always left my heart in Detroit. It must have been hard to move back here, if you set down roots there.”

A moment passed.

Before the seconds could extend into an uncomfortable silence, Jenny straightened, releasing a breath, and admitted, “It’s all right. I wanted to come home. I missed my family.”

Carl’s voice teetered, a delicate border between affection and gloom, when he said, “They must be important to you. Your family?”

Jenny smiled. “Yeah… Yeah, they are.” After a pause, adding, “I live with them, actually. My mom, dad. I have a little sister – Diana. And a grandmother.” A fingernail tapped on her tablet as she glanced up at the sky in thought. “I know it’s weird in western cultures, but it’s always been the norm for us. I was born and raised here, as were my parents, but we were all taught the same familial devotion. It gets passed on through generations. I’d… have it no other way. Even with the… disagreements, the arguments. I love them more than life.”

Carl was smiling at her, and not once did it slip, fall, hesitate; it reached the glimmer in his eyes. “If only we all had children like you.” He sighed, but tried to keep the smile, whispering, “I wish Leo cared even half of how much you do.”

Kamski spoke then, in the silence his voice a welcome distraction. “You put others before yourself, don’t you?”

It was as confounding a question as those he had asked in her interview. Though not philosophical, nor quite so demanding, it still left Jenny stumped, too hesitant to explore her own nature to answer without a trace doubt. Shifting, head tilted, the corner of her lips turned down in a split second, before she, tentative, nodded.

“I suppose, maybe.” It was the truth; Diana told her so, whenever she’d call home from New York, during ungodly hours of night and morning, after long days at Sloan’s beck and call – her sister had warned her she was too generous with her time and effort.

Kamski turned to her, their gazes met, the pensive angle of his head inclined to the side. Still in thought, the question slipped from his lips in a flow of curiosity, “What wouldn’t you sacrifice for your family?”

There, again, was the pull, the strange pain that ached from it in her brow. Her breath caught at the memories she had shared, once, with Arthur; the smiles, the laughs, the kisses and touches and all the love in their hearts; and how, in just a few minutes, she had let go of him. Too far, he drifted, until she had lost him in a dead sea of memories .

Time passed, but when at last she spoke, there was no hesitation in her whispered voice.

“Nothing. I sacrificed everything.”

Carl’s voice pulled her to shore. “Don’t.” Ripping her gaze from Kamski’s, she glanced at the older man, and listened to his words, as if to anchor her to this plane. He was shaking his head. “Don’t sacrifice all that you are, all that you love, to others. Live your life, Jenny. Be selfish. Demand your rights. Demand the respect you deserve.”

Arthur faded into nothing once more.

“You are a person,” Carl pointed to his mind, “here.” Then, to his heart, “And here. And you deserve to _live –_ without sacrificing that.”

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!! x


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